


Getting My Needs Met

by fandomfluffandfuck



Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: (For a second), (Have you seen Chris' Hands??), (it's appreciated though), (it's not explicitly mentioned but y'know), (kinda), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Basically There's No Enough Unashamed Slutty Sebastian Out There And I Needed To Fix That, Bisexuality, Blow Jobs, Bottom Sebastian Stan, Clothed Sex, Desperation, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Dom Chris Evans, Dom/sub Undertones, Drinking, Dry Humping, Edging, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enthusiastic Consent, Finger Sucking, First Time, Frottage, Getting Together, Hair Kink, Hair-pulling, Hand & Finger Kink, Horniness, Humiliation, Kinky, Light Dom/sub, Light Feminization, Loud Sex, M/M, Making Out, Manhandling, Multiple Orgasms, Name-Calling, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Panic Attacks, Past Relationship(s), Praise Kink, Relationship Discussions, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Experimentation, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Size Kink, Size Matters To Sebastian, Spanking, Sub Sebastian Stan, Subspace, Talk Of Past Sexual Experiences, Teasing, Thoughts Of Past Sexual Experiences, Threesome Fantasy Mentioned, Top Chris Evans, Under-negotiated Kink, Unsafe Sex, Wall Sex, size queen, slutty Sebastian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:26:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26653639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomfluffandfuck/pseuds/fandomfluffandfuck
Summary: Basically, this is my excuse to write the first time Chris and Sebastian fuck while incorporating some of my favorite kinks to spice some shit up. There's minimum plot and mostly just Sebastian being a happy slut that's in very good (very large) hands.
Relationships: Chris Evans/Sebastian Stan
Comments: 26
Kudos: 107





	Getting My Needs Met

**Author's Note:**

> PSA- If I just disappear randomly there is no need to send out a search party- I simply have gotten back into the school year and I'm an overachiever so most everything in my life is being consumed by assignments and grades. 
> 
> Anyway- enjoy!  
> I will accept literally any spare thoughts you have in whatever form they may be: kudos, comments, strings of random letters, meaningless emojis, and/or Morse Code. No, but for real, literally anything... I'm easy to please ;)
> 
> (If you came for my stucky writing I promise I'll keep writing them, its just that some prompts that pop up in my head fit Seb and Chris better than Bucky and Steve)

Sebastian feels like his skin is on fire. Like he’s got a dangerously high fever and is light headed because of that not the lack of blood that’s being directed to any other part of him that isn’t his dick. He’s aware that he’s panting and whining a little too. He can’t stop himself though. He couldn’t even if he tried.

Sebastian feels Chris’ fingers drag over his jaw for the second time that night and this time he’s not closing Sebastian’s mouth because it’s dropped open in surprise against the admission that the other man harbors the same feelings for him- this time it’s done for no other reason than the fact that he’s allowed to now. They haven’t stopped touching since they left the bar and Sebastian has never been more glad that they’re at one of the hotels that has one attached to it. There would have been some… interesting pap photos had they been forced to go into public.

And he’s not sure why Chris has pulled away but he’s glad he has because- damn. Chris looks so good. He could get used to this view. His lips are even pinker and plumped a little with their incessant kissing. Sebastian feels heat rush from his face to his groin and helplessly he glances down, attempting to map every nuance that he’s seeing in his naked, wanting expression but he locks his eyes on the plush surface of Chris’ lower lip and he can’t not dive back in. He can’t not touch. He somewhat successfully swallows another noise that wants to burst out of him while he does it too, or he does until Chris catches his shoulders. Holding him just a breath away from his own lips, keeping them just barely separate. 

More heat pools inside Sebastian at not being allowed what he so desperately wants and so he whines stupidly for a moment, not knowing how to get around what Chris is non verbally demanding of him. He doesn’t even remember that his hands are free and that he could easily brush Chris off and take what he wants. He’s too caught up in a noise that Chris makes in the back of his throat- Sebastian flicks his eyes back up so he can see his eyes and discern what that noise means. He’s not sure what he sees in those eyes that have haunted his dreams (both at night and during the day) for years. All he knows is what he wants. So he finds himself licking his own lips and reshaping the eagerness of his throat into a watery, needy version of“p-please.” 

Another soft hum comes from Chris as he leans in, doing as he’s been asked eagerly, swooping down to capture his lips and conquer the space between them. 

Sebastian’s world explodes into technicolor once more. At some point he’d figure that this would get old- or, well, not old, just… it probably shouldn’t feel like pure magic every time Chris kisses him, right? 

But Sebastian’s only thinking somewhat lucidly for a few seconds before he’s moaning as Chris uses the point of contact where he’s cupping his chin to tilt his face up, deepening their kiss into something that’s more than just a simple press of lips. Sebastian feels all of his insides turn to liquid as Chris’ lips explore his own, god, he’s such a good kisser. Of course he is, a small voice offers from the back of his head. Chris is good at everything. And Sebastian wouldn’t expect this to be any different- hell, he’s seen all of the scenes involving kissing (or more) that Chris has done. He’s laid back on his bed or his couch or wherever he happened to be and imagined the way those lips would feel based on the way it was caught on film and, Jesus Christ, he was dead wrong. 

It feels so much better than he could’ve ever imagined. 

Especially when Chris pinches his jaw a little tighter, taking even more control over the pacing of their kissing, and his tongue is flicking forward to trace the seam of where his lips are loosely pressed together. Chris only asks permission through that one little move - making sure he’s okay with involving their tongues - before he goes back to dominating. And just Sebastian’s own mind thinking of that word when Chris is literally fucking his tongue into his mouth… Sebastian can’t contain the full body shiver that cuts through him. 

Chris takes the shutter as what it is. He knows. He just...

It’s perfect. Chris is perfect. His lips are hot and slick and delicious and he’s stupidly good at knowing what Sebastian wants. He’s already proved that in the short amount of time that they’ve had together like this. Making out like desperate teenagers. He’s perfect. He knows just what has Sebastian’s head spinning. Having Chris’ hands cupping his jaw and neck, cradling his head, is good enough to make Seb melt (really any time Chris touches him he melts) but you put the fact that they’re also kissing into the mix and… well. Sebastian is glad he’d been pushed up against the wall of the elevator before this started. He’d be on the floor otherwise. Although to be truthful he’s not sure if his knees have given out or not because all he’s paying attention to is the slick, hot press of Chris’ lips against his own. His tongue has already gone through exploring the inside of his mouth and has somehow already found all those spots that make the most arousal pool inside him. The erotic drag of their lips over one anothers is much, much too distracting for him to have noticed something as unimportant as whether or not he’s still standing. 

Had Sebastian known Chris would’ve been this fucking perfect of a fit, well, he might’ve mustered up the guts to actually ask him out and not wait the years that it took Chris to make a move after downing his first (and only) beer of the night in point five seconds. 

The elevator stops moving. A soft ‘ding’ follows the stop in motion. 

Seb still feels like he’s moving- not like he’s rising in the steady pull of the elevator but spinning. He’s spinning. Unsteady and hard enough to fucking go toe to toe with a diamond. Chris pulls away. Taking his weight and body heat with him. Sebastian’s lips - that had fallen open with the force and urgency of their kissing - release a little whimper before he can stop it. The rest of his body must also agree with his mouth and throat because he’s also swaying forward. Although he doesn’t notice the second thing, probably on account of the embarrassment consuming him, until Chris is lunging forward. His hands esnare both of his biceps, steadying him, and Sebastian feels like purring with the reintroduced body contact. He wants to curl up in the warmth of Chris’ palms like a cat in the sun. 

Sebastian feels his own eyes widen in a mirror image of the shock that blooms over Chris’ face a few seconds too late as they both process what just happened. The other man’s eyes, which are typically shining with mischief, are now dark and focused solely on him. Sebastian feels like the weakest animal in a herd that’s been located by the lion. Something dark and dangerous is in those eyes- Sebastian isn’t sure he should feel the need to find out what it is but he does. More than anything. He wants to know how much damage Chris can do to him. How much Chris could make him feel like a helpless piece of meat against a hungry predator. 

And, hell, if just his lips had him wanting to drop to his knees at Chris’ feet then that look has him melting into the carpet underfoot. Soaking into the very floorboards that they stand on. He wants to pant and tremble under that look. He knows that look. That’s a look of hunger. Desire. Lust. 

He knows exactly how that feels.

Something along the lines of, “so responsive, Seb,” comes out of Chris’ mouth as he shifts his grip, sliding his hands up from his arms to grab the collar of Sebastian’s jacket and tug him forward. He goes willingly, putting all of his weight into the wall of muscle that Chris is becoming in front of him. He feels boneless. He just wants to get closer to the gravitational pull of Chris. 

The doors shut behind him. Apparently following Chris meant getting out of the elevator. Sebastian doesn’t see anything though, or hear anything for that matter, because Chris’ weight is being thrown into him again. He knows he can’t hold up against him so he’s more than glad when his back meets another wall. As fun as it’d be to fall to the floor and get the privilege of having Chris fucking Evans pinning him to there- he’d rather opt out of possible head injuries when the possibiltly of getting into his pants is on the line. He gasps as Chris flicks his tongue over his lips again. Sebastian’s mouth falls open with possible record breaking speed. A whimper that Sebastian doesn’t recognize as his own makes its way out of his mouth and into Chris’, the other man swallows it beautifully and nips at his bottom lip, chuckling at little while making his own rumble of appreciation. Sebastian is going to fucking die. He’s going to cum in his pants like he did when his first girlfriend got bossy after having a shitty day. He’s going to fucking come apart at the seams like he did when he discovered Dominaxtrix porn. He’s going to- to die. He’s just going to die because there’s exactly zero blood in his head and chest and anywhere that’s not his dick. 

Sebastian hears himself gasp, he’s trying for the word, “room” but more of what comes out is, “ahhh! Ah- rmmmmmh.” 

At the same time that he says it, he wants to pull it back into his throat, fuck being famous, he wants to feel Chris’ spit slick lips hotly slide against his own for the rest of time while they’re out in the open. He wants to be able to makeout like horny teenagers and not have anyone look twice unless it’s because they’re into that. He wants Chris to just tear him down right here and now. Either way Chris seems to understand because he’s pulling his body back from pressing Sebastian flat into the wall and he doesn’t even care for a second if it’s because Chris understands his suddenly developed frustrations with being famous or if it’s his incoherent rambling, embarrassing sounds. He just wants Chris to do whatever he wants with him. 

Sebastian moans breathily as he watches Chris, he’s fumbling with his keycard and the sinfully tight t-shirt he’s wearing is giving him the best fucking show of his muscles shifting and buldging as he unlocks the door. If Sebastian was a better man he may have not stuck his hand down his pants… but he’s not. And he can’t think of even half of a fucking reason to suddenly turn over that new leaf. So while Chris curses under his breath and slots the card into his door, acting like he’s actually drunk instead of probably hardly even buzzed, Sebastian finds himself panting and nearly drooling with the flames of pleasure that are back to licking their way up his legs to his dick and balls as he works himself over. 

Chris looks over his shoulder. 

He’s got no idea if it’s because he’s got the door open or if it’s because he’s caught onto the fact that he’s trying to give himself some relief. But he does. He looks over one of his unfairly attractively broad shoulders and his eyes quickly transform from teasing or possibly confused to dark, dangerous depths as his eyes lock on what his hand is doing. Even more embarrassment pours into Sebastian. He bites his lower lip hard. Hoping that the pain will bring him back to reality. It doesn’t. 

Grounding himself through pain is completely useless because Chris fucking Evans tuts at him. He tuts! And he shakes his head as he steps forward, looking like the fucking hottest dissappointed authority figure that Seb has ever fucking seen. And if he thinks any more about Chris Evans in relation to authority he’s not going to make it into his room without making a mess of himself. 

A strangled noise escapes Sebastian- he’s not sure if he looked in a mirror if his dick or his face would be redder. He can’t stop himself. 

Chris locks his fingers around his wrists, tugging both of them up and away from his body before gathering them together in just one of his massive hands and Sebastian is back to feeling like he’s going to spontaneously combust. He feels fucking hysterical. Why the fuck does Chris hit every fucking one of his buttons? Both romantically and if the fucking trend contiues, sexually too. Chris doesn’t say anything. He just walks forward, his big, big body turned around so that his grip on his wrists is like a leash, guiding him forward and preventing him from touching himself. 

It’s wonderfully hot. Wonderfully frustrating. And wonderfully embarrassing. 

Although for the fucking millionth time that night none of those thoughts matter because Chris is using his own clarity of mind that Sebastian can’t follow when his dick is fucking aching and swollen and harder than fucking ever and he’s being pinned to the inside of Chris’ hotel room door. And every dirty, filthy, outrageously hot fantasy Sebastian has ever had is coming true. It both feels like they’ve teleported there - like he’s just gone from touching himself to being denied and pinned in point zero seconds - and that the little walk between the outside and the inside of his room went on for ages and ages. The back of his head smacks the wood and he doesn’t care even though it hurts. He just moans like it’s a hand on his dick because Chris is the one that did that. 

Chris’ lips pull into a smile that Sebastian has never seen. It’s crude and mocking and something that Sebastian is going to be jerking off over later once he’s done melting into the floor. He’s going to be seeing that every time he closes his eyes. Even when he doesn’t too. That fucking smile, that smirk, is hauntingly tantalizing. 

“You’re really something, Seb,” he husks, licking the shell of his ear. Sebastian keens, letting his head thunk back onto the wood again because he’s certainly not fucking paying attentiong to what the fuck is going on beyond what Chris is doing to him. Chris tuts again, letting go of his wrists so he can wedge his other hand between the door and the back of his head, “don’t hurt yourself.” 

Sebastian wants to scream. Fucking Chris. Fucking fuck this unfairly sexy, unfairly hot, dominating Chris that he’s just getting to know. And fuck having that Chris mixed with the perfect, dorky, funny, Chris that he knows. He’s dizzy with it. His dick hurts- he’s so hard. Another whine is the only thing that he can hope to make to get Chris to understand his predicament. 

And all Chris does is laugh. 

The bastard just chuckles low and dark and smiles at him, brushing his lips over his cheekbone in the sweetest tease he’s ever felt and even just feeling his breath hot and wet over his skin has Sebastian heating up even more. He never felt like this before. With anyone. Not even with his first ‘hollywood’ girlfriend who was much, much kinkier than Sebastian could ever hope to be (or imagine being at the time), this doesn’t even hold a candle to her. And bless her. He loved her; he’s pretty sure he did at least. But, no, it’s not even like that spectacular time when she had taken his virginity- pegging him and holding him down roughly to her squeaky twin bed. Chris is lighting up something inside him that’s going to burn through him if he’s not careful. Who knows though, maybe whatever that wild, dark fire inside him has already melted through him and is taking over Chris too and that’s why this is so, so good. 

Or maybe it’s just true fucking love like Mackie’s been telling him. 

“Sebastian,” Chris breathes out, stupidly gentle compared to the dull, all-over stinging pain that takes over his scalp as he pulls his hair roughly. And, fuck. Oh fuck. Oh, god. 

Sebastian feels the arousal and pleasure and pain of it build inside of his chest in slow motion, like lava moving over the ground, consuming everything in its path. He feels it hit him what seems like much longer before the punched out, gutted, wholly consumed noise spills out of his lips but the reaction Chris has tells him that time is just delayed in his syrupy, strung out mind. His eyes widen and his pupils dilate impossibly further. 

Hot shame flows into his chest because he knows Chris is into him but… he’s not supposed to know about that. About. About all the things that-

Chris’ teeth biting down on his jaw cut off all of his thoughts. Jesus. Sebastian wants to tremble. Chris’ hand hasn’t moved, it’s still holding his head back and exposing his jaw and throat to him- he barely feels his own breath washing over his gaped lips it feels so good. He can barely breath. He can barely fucking feel anything but the pounding, throbbing, aching need of his dick and balls and holy fucking shit he wants to get fucked so bad. He feels his lip tremble simply at the thought. He really, really, really wants something inside him. 

The hot, wet, slick feeling of Chris’ lips migrate down his neck and Sebastian can’t hold in his hysterical giggles any longer because fuck, fuck, fuck, he’s gonna cum. He’s gonna cum. He’s going to cum in his pants when Chris hasn’t even touched him below the belt yet. All from the sweet sensation of his hand fisted in his hair and his lips and breath washing over his neck and from being pinned bodily to the door like this. Being forced to submit. He’s going to cum. 

At some point he manages to stop his giggles and turns them into panicked, desperate, small noises and which he then can turn into, “nnnhhgg, nnhhg- ggod. Please. Chr-Chris, ‘m gonna, g’nna cum, ‘m gonna cum. You gotta, gotta- ah!” 

Chris nips at his pulse point, mouthing over his sweaty skin, “really?” 

His voice is thick and rough and unfairly hot. Shivers run down Sebastian’s spine and pool with the rest of his arousal in his gut, he tries to nod and is speedily reminded of the hand in his hair. It tightens. Sebastian whimpers, “uh huh,” he feels kind of pathetic and wild and needy. It’s intoxicating. Feeling so, so affected and so good when he can’t even tell how turned on Chris is because while he’s close enough to pin him to the door their hips aren’t slotted together. It’s maddening. Probably a good thing though. Sebastian knows he’d lose himself entirely if he could feel Chris’ erection up against him like that. He’d literally drop to his knees. He knows himself. He would. He’d be begging and drooling for it. 

“Just this?” Chris questions, pinning him harder against the door, which creaks ominously behind them at the pressure. 

This time nothing comes out of Sebastian’s mouth when he opens it, his lips just fall open and greet the silence of the rest of the room with more. He’s speechless. Literally. It feels so good. So good. Being pressed entirely up against the door. Chris’ chest and shoulders are hot against his own even through the layers of clothing separating their bare skin. He can feel it every time Chris breathes. In his chest and in the hot breath fanning over his skin. He’s never ever been this turned on. 

“Yeah,” Chris agrees, almost sighing as he speaks. Sebastian wants to curl up in the sound or to bottle it for days when the world isn’t as good and exciting as it is today. His hand tightens in his hair right after he just relaxed it. He’s not helping Sebastian’s precarious situation. He feels his dick twitch in his pants at the rough hold. “Yeah,” Chris offers again, relaxing his hand just to fist another handful of hair that’s closer to the crown of his head. Sebastian moans loud at first but the noise goes high and feminine as Chris uses his grip to tug his head all the way back, manipulating the sounds coming out of him with the angle of his throat. When he talks again it’s right into the hollow of his throat, “you do like that.” He agrees with himself. And Sebastian barely gets out a choppy breath before he continues, letting his hair go so they can lock eyes again, “your eyes get all big and unfocused, you know that?” 

Seb hears a squeaky, shy noise come out of him as he pants out, “nno?”

“No?” Chris cards a hand through his hair, “well, they do. They get wide and- and, yeah. Your lips drop open too. I can tell how good it makes you feel…” he trails off into something less dirty and more worshipful, “you’re really pretty, Seb.” 

Sebastian shudders, his toes curling in his shoes as his tongue swells up too big inside his mouth, and he tries to pass off his involuntary reaction with a weakly joking tone of voice, “that’s not exactly helping.” 

One of his eyebrows shoots up, he leans in, brushing their mouths together as he purrs, “it’s not?” 

Sebastian’s voice gets tangled up in his throat as he sputters, croaking out, “no” because he can’t be anything but honest when Chris has got him so good. 

Thankfully then Chris backs off, keeping his stupidly hot lips shut, sparing him from dying of heart failure from being too fucking turned on. But he’s apparently learned his lesson since they came out of the elevator because he goes slow this time instead of just completely removing himself from his space. Sebastian feels Chris carefully untangle his hand from his hair, making sure not to accidentally tug, and he feels a pang of overwhelming affection shoot through his chest at the thought out action. He’s being gentle purposefully. Butterflies made of flames appear in his stomach. Sweet and hot. What a fucking combination. 

No unhappy whines bubble up from somewhere panicked and vulnerable inside him this time.

The other man peels himself away slowly, quietly whispering to ask if he wants some water or something before they go to bed to calm down a little. Sebastian nods, grateful for something to do with his hands as he cracks a dumb joke about not usually being so quick on the draw as they meander over toward the king size mattress that dominates the space of the bedroom. Most of the hotel rooms Marvel books for them seem like they're bigger than the first apartment he bought himself. Chris sits on the edge of the bed, quickly pulling off his shoes first, then watching as if enraptured as he drinks. Sebastian irrationally worries about spilling water down his front. He’s not used to being watched so intensely. His hands want to tremble more than anything as he takes a knee to untie his own shoes. 

Chris steals his water bottle away from him after an indeterminate amount of time. It doesn’t feel like it’s been very long but it never does when he’s around Chris. Time flies when it’s just them. Sebastian doesn’t mind. Neither does the half full water bottle. It’s set on one of the bedside tables and Chris is quipping back some cheesy one-liner about being affected by him in a way that no one else ever has. Responding to his ‘quick on the draw’, not so subtle, subtle comment. Being crazy for him. And Sebastian’s never heard truer words so he just tackles Chris back onto the bed, taking advantage of his newly freed hands. 

He lands with an, “oof” and a soft laugh. One of his basically bearpaw sized hands comes up to cup his cheek, Sebastian feels more of those heated butterflies- they mess with his head a little. However, those tingly, good feelings are nothing compared to the shell fucking shock that hits him when Chris guides his hip with his other hand, pushing them to be more on top of each other, and accidentally arranges there crotches directly on top of each other. 

The most embarrassing sound possible falls out of Sebastian’s lips. 

Like. To date. The only word he can think of to describe it is ‘squeal’. He didn’t even know he could make a sound anywhere close to that before it came out of him. It doesn’t even sound like his own voice. It’s more needy and desperate and turned on then he’s ever heard himself. 

His lips stay parted for much too long after the mortifying noise stops and he comes ridiculously close to drooling because of that. Chris is big. Like, big. Very big. Very hard. And very hot and solid against him. Chris may have gotten a glimpse into his thing for having his hair pulled but- this. This is something else that he has a much, much bigger thing for. Possibly a kink even. 

Chris catches on because of course he does and Sebastian doesn’t know what to do so he just freezes, feeling like he’s been caught red handed. He has always thought- always fantasized, about Chris being big and being able to pin him down and make him take it but having the reality of that presented to him on a fucking silver platter has his heart stopping and his mind melting. He can’t think. All he can do is feel how hot and heavy and big Chris is through his jeans. He can hardly process it. Chris gets a hand on his ass, leaving the other on his hip for the time being. 

“Breathe, baby.” 

Sebastian barely hears the words through the haze shrouding his mind, but he does, thankfully, hear them and obey. Choking as he unsteadily inhales and tries to exhale through a whimper when Chris decides that that’s a prime time to roll them over. Flipping their positions. 

Sebastian tries to keep his cool. He really does. But all that happens when he gets his back onto the bed is his brain melting out of his ears as his insides pulse and shake with want. Having Chris on top of him means his weight is just pressing their hips together that much harder. He can’t help himself, he rolls his hips back into the bed. He needs to get fucking fucked. Soon. He needs to be destroyed by his cock. God. It feels so big. 

And before he can stop his loose lips the slurred, clearly slutty phrase of, “you’re so big,” comes spilling out of him. 

Chris pauses for the first time, looking uncertain, “that okay? ‘Cause we don’t have to…” 

A somewhat hysterical giggle comes out of him then as he shakes his head, “no! No.” Chris sets more of his weight on him then. Pressing his cock against him more. Sebastian wants to weap. “Oh, OH! Fuck. Fuck me. You’re so big. Knew- ah! Knew you were but, oh,” Chris rolls his hips down, getting back into the program, “oh. Ooohhh. Fuck. Bigger than I thought.” 

“Jesus, Seb, you know how to make a guy feel good about himself,” Chris chuckles, but he sounds a lot more affected by this than he was a few seconds ago and Sebastian can always be grateful for that. He wants Chris’ head in this with him (and, oh my god, will his subconscious shut up- not like that). 

“Nnnhhg,” is the only thing he can get past his uncooperative lips because whether Chris is doing it on purpose or not, his hips haven’t stopped moving once. He’s beginning to legitimately worry that he won’t survive this. Everything feels too good. He can’t keep all of these feelings inside himself or he’s going to fucking explode. 

Chris brushes a kiss over the side of his cheek, “yeah? Feeling good?” 

Sebastian nods before Chris can even finish his question, “want you in me, c’mon, please?” A rough groan comes out of his chest and his breathing hitches, Seb lets himself revel in the victory for a moment. He’s making Chris feel good too- he has to remember that, even though he can’t help but turn to mush in his hands, he’s still being helpful. He’s still good. 

“Where do you- how? How should we do this? You wanna stay like this, or..?” 

An involuntary groan tears itself out of his throat because as much as he would love, love, love to have Chris fuck him face to face so he can see his gorgeous features tighten with pleasure he also fucking loves being taken from behind. So much that it’s almost a compulsion. He wants it. His mouth waters just thinking about it. He’s imagined it so many times. 

He flips himself over, thankful that Chris isn’t demanding words from him, he doesn’t think he could get his mouth to cooperate if he wanted to. And if he did want to… well, he’s pretty sure he’d spontaneously burst into flames of embarrassment if he had to explain himself. Chris’ breathing hitches behind him as he gets onto his belly. 

“Sebastian,” he breathes, his voice turning into a wild, low purr that has his toes curling, “god, you’re gonna kill me.” 

Sebastian barks out a laugh, “likewise.” There’s no cheerful response, just more breathing. Suspense curls in his chest, making itself right at home as easy as ever. He feels the mattress dip as he moves. Something primal and prey-like inside him tells him to stay still, to just let Chris have his way, and so he stays pinned to the mattress, laying on his belly as he fights the urge to hump the mattress. If Chris can see the tension in his spine from the effort of holding still he doesn’t say anything, he just looks and breathes. And it’s the most frustrated Sebastian’s been in a long, long time. 

Then. Just as he’s sure he can’t take any more of the stretched, tension filled silence. Chris’ hands run down his back, Seb finds himself gasping at the unexpected touch, his shirt slides down with the help of his hands. Exposing him to Chris’ eyes. He holds his breath. 

“Baby,” Sebastian jumps, tensing for half a second before melting down into the bed once more, yelping in surprise despite his quick understanding because he did not expect to feel Chris’ breath on his newly bared skin but he certainly does and after a moment of hearing that particular endearment he also feels his lips. Hot and slick on his back. Tracing his spine up and up and up until Chris has to pull away so he can lift his chest off the bed and get his shirt off. He’s honestly got no fucking idea when or where he lost his jacket. He doesn’t care though because Chris is guiding his upper body back onto the bed but he’s then moving and tugging his hips back and up, making him get his knees under himself. 

Sebastian’s face burns. 

He’s literally ass up, face down on Chris’ bed. 

“Look at you, you’re so good,” Chris muses and Sebastian’s brain goes floaty and useless again, hearing the awed, praising tone of his voice. His gut clenches around the pleasure pooling there. He moans breathily. Chris pauses but he doesn’t show any cracks in that cool, dominating exterior otherwise, “oh? That how it is?” Sebastian doesn’t respond, he can’t, he’s too preoccupied with how his cheeks feel swollen because of the intense flush quickly taking over his entire body, Chris’ following tut and disbelieving, “should’ve known.” Isn’t helpful in taming the blush covering his face and neck (and probably his chest too at this point). One of his hands runs the length of his spine while the other drums over his hip, he’s waiting for Sebastian to speak up, he knows, but he can’t make his lips move from the silent moan taking them over. 

Once the hand on his back makes it to the nape of his neck Sebastian doesn’t even feel it move, just one second it’s squeezing the back of his neck in a much more startlingly intimate form of how Chris often reaches out to touch him and the next it’s tangled in his hair and forcing his neck to arch all the way back. He can feel the stretch of the curve in the tendons of his neck. It feels so good. Sebastian moans loud and unabashed. It echoes around them in the quiet room. More heat burns all through his body. He can’t tame any of the heat- he can’t help it, there’s just always been some magic connection between his dick and his hair and it’s never gone away but Chris is finding out how to turn up that connection to eleven. 

Chris doesn’t seem to mind his neediness, he just chuckles and dips his head low enough to kiss the small of the back, mouthing his next words into his sweaty skin while he keeps his grip on his hair nice and steady and tight, “should’ve known, huh?” Sebastian once more can’t find it within himself to grab at any words or thoughts. He’s swimming in nothing but molten arousal. Panting and shaking. Mouth hanging open. Eyes squeezed shut against the heady pleasure flying through him.

“Sebastian.” Chris’ voice has dipped into something of a growl and Sebastian is hopeless to the jolt of hot, branding fire that cuts him into tiny little pieces. He keens. 

“Answer me.” Chris demands, straightening back up and tugging just that much harder on his hair, flames caress his neck and scalp and drip down his body to reach his dick, keeping him hard enough that it aches, “tell me what this does to you. What you like.” 

Sebastian finds himself squirming and getting nowhere - not that he really does want to go anywhere - pinned underneath Chris' authoritative presence and hold. He feels like he’s been cracked open and filled with nothing but hot, burning, molten arousal before being closed back up. He’s sweating and whining vaguely, finding every breath harder than the last with the more Chris uncovers about what he needs. 

Chris relaxes his grip and begins some vague threat that Sebastian can’t even really hear over the need clawing at his brain. He wants that hand back in his hair. He wants all of those floaty, good, hot feelings back. He whines for a few seconds and does nothing but neither does Chris. It gets his ass into gear. 

“I- I like that.” He chokes out, talking into the bedding now that Chris isn’t forcing his head back, “I, I like-” Sebastian hears his own voice break, god, Chris hasn’t even really touched him. He’s fucked. Absolutely. “I want, god, I want you to pull my hair.” He continues in a whisper, “I like that.” 

“Manners, Seb,” Chris says, and even though he knows that it’s mostly in jest and not because he seriously wants Sebastian to use ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and all that but he can’t not squirm and gasp in return. 

“Please. Please pull my ha-air!” His last word is cut in half by his own choked noise, Chris has his hand back in his hair. He’s not even really tugging or pulling, not compared to what he was doing just moments ago, but it still feels nice. Nice enough to trip him up and keep his mouth from making actual words. 

“Words, pretty baby,” Chris gruffly whispers and Sebastian feels his dick throb at the new pet name. But he’s relaxing his grip from a harsh hold to one that’s loose enough that you might be able to imagine that he had just been petting his hand through Sebastian’s hair before getting distracted and stopping. As his grip changes he just muses, “there. Now you can think- I know it’s hard when you feel so good.” 

A sharp, sharp, sharp fucking spike of arousal stabs right through Sebastian’s very core, he exhales, kind of giggling with the endorphins floating around his brain but more so just sighing, “yessss.” Chris is then on top of him, making his legs spread out to the sides of his body as he lowers them both onto the mattress by force. He’s spread wide. Vulnerable and slutty. Sebastian barely swallows another hungry sound. He can’t stop the damn near wail that falls out of him when his dick comes into contact with the bed though, well, at least Chris is right there with him judging by the deep groan that rumbles from deep within his chest. And Sebastian is right back to the frantic, hot, pulsing need and shock that he felt earlier when he pushed Chris onto the bed because he’s grinding is dick into his ass like he can’t help himself. 

Then he stops because Chris is pressing one big, hot palm into his stomach. 

A hiccup of a sob falls out of him as Chris hushes him, reminding him that he’s supposed to be talking by offering a quiet, rough, “tell me.” 

“Hnng,” off to a great start then, a small voice pops up in the back of Seb’s head. He ignores it. Shakily inhaling and trying to process what’s happening instead of just being consumed by the flames within him, making a curious noise when Chris directs him to turn his head to the side. Anything located inside his head floats away; his brain is entirely empty of everything. Their lips meet. Either one or both of them sigh. It’s nice. Not as dirty as some of their kisses have been tonight but still heated. It’s a perfect breather. “I like you,” spills out of Sebastian’s mouth before he can register what’s coming out of him, Chris returns the sentiment softly before a particularly evil thrust of his hips makes his second, non-verbal message clear- get back to it. 

“I like, uhm,” Sebastian’s well aware that with Chris’ front pressed to his back and his face sideways like it is that he can tell he’s fever hot with arousal and embarrassment, “I like you, uhm, you telling me what to, to do.” He swallows, finding his mouth dry as he does, listening to Chris’ pleased hum and undoubtedly taking it much more to heart than he should, “I like you err- I like the, uhm, the names.” 

Chris huffs, his breath puffing over his shoulder, “yeah. Should’ve known, been watching you blush and hide when someone compliments you for years.” He goes quiet for a moment, “should’ve guessed, shouldn’t I have, pretty baby?” Sebastian makes a slightly insulted, well, that’s not the right word but it’s the closest one he can think of at the moment, embarrassed and almost gasping noise- he’s not, not that obvious is he? 

Chris chuckles, “you sure are.” Oh. He said that out loud then. A sloppy, hot kiss is painted across the corner of his mouth, “don’t worry though, Seb, you’re obvious and gorgeous.” Sebastian groans out all of the building frustration within him, turning his head back into the bed to hide his burning cheek. Chris’ breathing picks up just a little, he probably wouldn’t even be able to tell if they weren’t pressed together like this, “I like it. I like how fuckin’ pretty you are. I like how much you react to me. It’s good.” It’s not exactly the words ‘good boy’ but it's close enough that once again Sebastian can’t stop the involuntary humping of his body down into the bed. His insides churn hotly- it feels so fucking good. 

“Hey,” Chris stops him just with the commanding, low tone of his voice, he’s freezing in place before he even realizes it. God. He’s got so much control over him without even doing anything. Tears make their presence known as he shuts his eyes tight, helplessly moaning. After a few breaths Chris starts talking again. 

“I was gonna make you keep talking but you’ve done enough, you’ve been good so far-” Sebastian cuts him off without meaning, gasping and shivering, Chris grins into his shoulder, grinding his huge fucking cock down onto him. Shivers seize his body for a moment. His jaw and hole clench in unison. God. He wants that fucking thing inside him. “You done?” Chris teases after a moment and then hot shame is coiling in his gut right along with the overwhelming pleasure from those compliments. “Yeah. I can guess what you like. You’re transparent, baby, you know that?” He shakes his head, not understanding what Chris means by that, “Jesus, Seb. You’re so responsive.” His fingers drag up his hip and Sebastian feels an army of goosebumps appear on his skin because of it, “see?” Chris husks. 

“You go red whenever someone compliments you or even gets sort of close to it. And, my god, I’ve never seen anything hotter just, just the way you fucking melted when I pulled your hair. When I laid on top of you.” He groans, caught up in his own words “…I, I just, there’s nothing like it, Sebastian. You should see yourself.” 

“Yeah?” It slips out of his mouth before he can hold it back. And damn himself. He’s doing nothing but proving Chris’ point. 

“Yeah. Watching you gets me so hard, you’ve got no idea, you’re so pretty, so sexy, Seb.” 

Sebastian squirms, panting as he tries to be somewhat joking with his comment of, “get, get on with it then, yeah?” 

He can’t tell if it’s a positive or a detriment to this whole fantastic, fantasy worthy (or better than his fantasies really) experience when Chris does just get on with it and quits talking and instead just disappears. Sebastian flips himself over, watching as Chris rummages through his suitcase in the corner of the room squatting down and not even trying to put on a show as he does it. He still has Sebastian’s breaths coming in as short pants. The man is so gorgeous it’s unfair. Even the lines of his body hidden underneath fabric is wet-dream worthy. 

Chris turns with a charmingly wide smile on his face, holding up his prizes of lube and an entire string of condoms like their trophies that are a thing of beauty to beheld. Sebastian considers himself a decent actor - he knows people would disagree with that on both sides of him not even being decent and some saying he’s much, much more than decent so he sticks to the middle with his personal opinion - but apparently he’s much shittier than he thought because the second he looks from the line of condoms to Chris’ face the older man’s face is considering. He crawls up the bed, tossing both the tube of lube and condoms up near the head of the bed. Whispering as he cages Sebastian’s body with his own larger one, he’s still looking at the condoms even as Sebastian looks at him, “I trust you. I don’t have anything and I’ll believe anything you tell me. Do you want to use those or no?” 

After the incredibly sappy, incredibly just purely Chris statement is out of his mouth he’s back to looking at Sebastian. Seeing his eyes has Sebastian puffing out a breath and his chest, he’s feeling a hell of a lot braver, being able to see by the look in his eyes that he’s certainly not horrified by Sebastian’s immediate want to not exactly be safe here. He feels brave and warm- warm if not loved because it is just a bit early to be having those feelings after all. 

“No, please. I- I’ve not… I’m good.” 

Chris smirks, “you are.” A whine slides out of Sebastian, god, how is he such a mess when neither of them have their clothes completely off yet? “We can do that, yeah,” he brushes a kiss over his lips, pulling back and dramatically brushing the condoms off the edge of the bed so they land on the floor with a quiet, crinkly noise. Good riddance, Sebastian thinks wildly gleefully. Chris does however grab the lube, looking down at him from where he’s kneeling between his spread thighs and as he pops the cap open in a stupidly sex and authoritative move that screams ‘I’m in charge here’ he raises one eyebrow, “this step is non-negotable though.” 

Sebastian swallows thickly, finding himself suddenly running out of spit, “oh?” 

Chris nods, slicking his fingers with lube in a gesture that shouldn’t be undoingly sexy but is because it’s Chris, “yeah. You can’t tell me you don’t have a thing for this- and, uhm,” he looks down for a second, returning briefly to that dorkier version of himself, “normally I’m not this blunt but you know how you reacted and, well, I’m big.” Sebastian inhales so sharply through his nose that it hurts, “I don’t want to hurt you so even if you’re into that… uh, this,” he wiggles his fingers like the big dope that he is, “needs to happen first.”

Sebastian isn’t as quiet as he thinks he’ll be when he mutters, “fuck, yeah.” But Chris licks his lips and glances down, laughing at himself and accidentally (or purposefully, Sebastian can’t be entirely sure after having seen this new side of him) glancing up at him through his ridiculous eyelashes. For a second nothing happens. They just stare at each other- electricity crackling up Sebastian’s spine with everything that’s in that look. 

Chris’ voice is rough, “you gotta take your pants off, I can’t do it one handed…” 

“Well, maybe I could,” he adds after Sebastian’s already began scrambling to undo them himself. And the fucker adds as a stupidly mind melting comment like it’s just an afterthought, “I know I can undo a bra one handed but pants are different, y’know?” 

And so Sebastian is stuck, gaping up at Chris with his hand froze over his leaking, aching, fucking twitching cock annd picturing what the other man would look like with undoing some women’s underwear and just what he also would have to look like while undoing a women. In general. Sebastian compulsively presses the heel of his hand against his dick and groans when his brain decides to ask him, hey, what do you think Chris would look like between a woman's legs? Eating her out and getting his face smashed between her thighs. Or, god, what he’d look like with a mess from a woman all over his face. Fuck. Maybe in his beard? 

The sound of the other man clearing his throat brings Sebastian out of his mind. He’s still squeezing and sort of stroking his dick. 

He whines as he lets go, panting like he’s run a race instead of being denied jerking off to his newly formed fantasies while the subject of said fantasy sits between his own legs and watches. He stops anyway. Even though his mind is wagering that the look on his face says that Chris really wouldn’t mind all that much and that wouldn’t it feel nice and be nice to have Chris’ eyes on him like a physical touch while he got off? Wouldn’t it be so fucking good to tell him he just gets to watch and can’t touch? 

He gets his pants off. Throwing them off to the side, out of the way, Chris clicks his tongue, casually ordering him around like it’s a perfectly normal occurrence, “boxers too, c’mon gorgeous, you don’t gotta be shy. Know you want this.”

Sebastian lets his head loll back onto the mattress as he fumbles with the waistband of his boxers. He does. God. He does want this. So bad. 

He’s barely gotten his boxers kicked off and discarded somewhere on the bed when Chris places his non-lubed up hand on his chest, showing him that he’s to stay right where he is and not move. While that happens Chris just blatantly strokes a line of lube down his shaft and cups his balls sparingly, Sebastian tries to not writhe under the touch and fails miserably, especially when Chris presses unsparingly on his perineum. Sebastian moans. Loud and gutted as fire soaks his body. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

“That feel nice, huh?” Chris teases him, bending forward to kiss his hip at the same time. 

And Sebastian’s way past not just fucking answering him so he just chokes out, “uh huh,” while nodding his head like a bobble head because it does feel nice. It feels fucking great. So good. Pressing against his prostate is amazing- he’s always been sensitive and so any touch to anywhere near his prostate is so fucking glorious that he can’t imagine ever coming close to putting it into words. Chris doesn’t try to do that either. He just leans forward more as he lifts and moves Sebastian’s legs where he likes - they end up both going over his shoulder and Sebastian is forced to confront the fact that his earlier fantasy could happen just instead of Chris doing that to a girl he’d be doing it to him - and he puts his lips around the tip of his dick. Just one second Sebastian’s throbbing and laying gutted at not being touched and the next Chris’ mouth is on his cock and he’s going at it. His tongue smartly working around him and slipping into his slit. Sebastian gasps and loses every capacity that isn’t gasping and opening his jaw as wide as possible and feeling pleasure pound through him. 

“You’re so wet,” Chris rasps, not really pulling away but not keeping his mouth around him. Sebastian takes the opportunity to re-learn how to breathe. Or he does until Chris’ fingers find their way to his entrance. Tracing the tight muscles and spreading lube over the vulnerable area. Sebastian sputters and chokes a little because until exactly this moment he’s been focused on how thick and big Chris’ cock has felt- entirely having forgot about his fucking hands. Goddamn. He’s had literal dreams about those fucking hands. He’s thought about them so much that thinking about it now has his cheeks reddening once more. He’s thought and dreamt about having them around his throat. About having them biting into his waist as he pounds into his. About having them spank his ass raw and pink and red. About getting to suck on his fingers after and before he’s done sucking his cock, stretching his lips and making his jaw ache. 

Just the first of Chris’ fingers pressing into him has him losing his sanity more. His fingers are fucking big. And so much better at this than his own. Already. God he’s fucked. Literally and non-literally. Another high, embarrassing noise spills out of him when Chris presses his finger farther into him, going up to the second knuckle, Sebastian feels his thighs tense and bunch. The sting of being stretched open is just barely there but it’s close enough that Sebastian’s sweating just that much more and encouraging Chris as much as he can to keep going. Panting the word “more” out under his breath as he tries to get his body back on his side so he can bear down and take what he wants. 

Chris presses his finger all the way in. 

Sebastian feels his hole clench around the intrusion and he keens in delight when he finally feels that delicious slightly stinging stretch of his walls around just a single fucking one of his fingers. When he opens his eyes Chris is staring at him intensely. He watches his Adam's apple bob. A low, almost barely there moan finds its way out of him when he opens his mouth and closes it, then opens it again. 

Sebastian has the sudden hungry desire to hear whatever it is that Chris is thinking that’s making him look like that but then nothing short of the world’s best distraction, in the form of another one of his fingers, is pressing into him and every train of thought leaves the station. He moans, tilting his head back all the way and presenting Chris with his throat in a way that he always has to fight to not do when he watches the way the older man comands himself and others. A breathy noise he’s never made before bursts out of him when Chris fucking licks up his throat and nearly growls as he does. 

His lips fucking tremble as Chris leans in - guiding his face up with a hand on the nape of his neck - to kiss him. He’s so overwhelmed. In the best way. Everything feels so, so good. Chris has to have done this before. Either that or he can just read Sebastian like a book without even trying because he’s sliding his second finger right along with the first and is doing an exquisite job of sending Sebastian to space. 

“So, anything else I should put on the checklist in my head?” Sebastian tries to give him a look that would convey his confusion but he’s not sure if he succeeds or not, he’s a little too consumed in the moves Chris is pulling on him currently. Stretching him out on two thick and long fingers and already circling the tip of a third at his entrance. Cooing in the back of his throat and faintly commenting on how good he’s being by opening up for him so easy. Sebastian honestly isn’t sure if Chris is talking to him or literally talking to his hole but he can’t really manage to open his eyes with how good everything feels. Either way, more dark, deep pleasure is curling into every empty space inside him at the words. 

“Ch-checklist?” Sebastian manages after a while, swimmingly thickly through white hot arousal. 

“Yeah,” Chris offers, he can hear the smirk on his lips in his voice, “praise, check. Hair-pulling, check. Manhandling, check. A thing for size- that apparently doesn’t matter, Sebastian.” Sebastian feels the entirety of his face and neck and chest light on fire. He squirms and tightens on Chris’ fingers. Not even thinking of biting back some bratty response when Chris smugly says, “check.” As he struggles to contain his excitement. 

“Not being in control, check.” Chris continues on with his easy listing of everything Sebastian loves more than anything and he’s not just assuming or guessing that he’s going to die here, getting fucked by Chris, but now it’s a fucking reality. It’s going to happen. He’s going to just die. “Dirty talk, check… should I go on or do you have more that you’ll willingly offer up?” 

Sebastian has no fucking clue how he can say all those things so causally and not sound affected by any of it. He’s got no idea how he’s ended up naked, writhing on a bed with three of Chris’ huge fucking fingers inside of him, while Chris is fully clothes and listing out all of his kinks and things that he has things for. His life is fucking wild. Wild and completely unfucking real.

“I know you like it when I call you pretty and nice names like that,” Chris muses out loud, letting Sebastian know that something else is coming down the line that he needs to be prepared for but unavoidably won’t be, his heart thumps faster, “but I have to say, you really are quite a slut, Sebastian.” 

He feels his heart stop. He feels his own fucking pupils expand the tiny little bit that they have left to. And he’s finding himself on the edge again for the second or third or maybe even forth time that night. He wants to cum. Desperately. Fucking shit. He wants to cum now. The second time is so much worse than the first time. Every time he gets close he wants to cum that much more than he did the first time and, fuck, did he want to cum the first time. He whimpers and feels a tear, or a few, escape one of his eyes. He lets his head thrash from side to side recklessly as he pants and gasps, trying his hardest to choke out a warning that if he doesn’t stop he’s seriously going to cum. He’s literally going to explode if he doesn’t stop touching him. And he knows while sometimes he can cum multiple times, he’s worked up enough tonight that it’s going to be one and done. He’s going to be fucking wrecked. He’s already shaking. Every one of his muscles is already tightened and lying in wait for his release. 

Thankfully. Or not thankfully depending on how you look at it, Chris gets his messy, undignified noises and actions as the right thing - that he’s milliseconds from making a mess all over both of them - and he stops thrusting his fingers in and out of him. He stops dragging his fingers against his internal walls in a way that feels indescribably good. He uses the fingers of his other hand to circle the base of his dick in a vice grip that would prevent him from cumming even if he didn’t stop playing him like a fucking intrument because he’s still a gentlemen apparently. Helping him hold off. Sebastian gasps wetly and lets more tears roll down his face, or more accurately he doesn’t actively try and stop the tears from spilling because there’s some release with that. And if he can’t cum yet he’ll take what he can get. 

The fire that was devastating his body and mind slowly fizzles down to something that’s more manageable but still clearly there. He’s soaked with sweat from head to toe but he’s just now present within himself enough to notice that. Now that he’s not drowning in pleasure that’s being spoon fed to him by a walking wet dream. And his chest is hollow of anything but hot static that’s slowly tightening back into something that’s a controllable ball of string rather than one line that can’t be ignored because of the tension overtaking it. He can even feel the throbbing of his pulse in his tightened nipples just as well as he can feel it in his dick and hole. Fuck. 

Chris is grinning at him when he opens his eyes, his lashes sticking together wetly, “poor baby,” he muses, but his teasing is ruined by the awe that bleeds through his voice as he continues talking, reverently asking after a quick pause, “you really wanted to cum didn’t you?” 

Sebastian nods and sniffles a little despite himself, licking his lips impulsively. Chris’ lips meet the high points of his cheeks on both sides of his face, one after the other, and he finds himself giggling hard enough to make more tears spill out of him. Chris cuts his laughter off by giving up his constricting grip and stroking him instead- he moans and thrusts into Chris’ fist. His lips jerking up with his brain even being able to register the newly provided shiver-inducing pleasure. His mouth falls open and there’s nothing he can do to stop his body from doing what it wants. He was so close. He feels fucking wrecked. 

“Jesus. I can’t, I can’t even… just. I don’t have to fuck you, you know? I would be so fucking happy to just jerk off right now after watching, uhm, that. You, god, you’re pretty. And I’m not even just saying that, because… th-that was the fucking sexiest thing I’ve ever-” 

“No,” Sebastian protests weakly, practically mewling because his voice is so raw, “want you in me.” He swallows, “I don’t wanna cum until then… please?” 

Chris makes a strangled sort of whimper in the back of his throat before getting out, “okay.” Sebastian feels his burning gaze on his body with just the same amount of clarity as he can feel the tips of his sticky finger. He inhales as deeply as he can, getting a lungful of the heady scent of sex that’s taking over all of the air in the room. He shuts his eyes just as Chris pipes back up, “‘m gonna need to open you some more though… uhm, is that, uh, okay yet, or-”

“Oh,” is pushed out of his chest like he’s been punched. Fuck. Oh. Just- 

“Yes,” Sebastian hears himself whimper breathily, “please,” because fuck, yes, does he want that. He wants as much of Chris as he can have. He wants everything. Four fucking fingers. Jesus Christ. He’s already had him opened up on three fingers, three massive fucking fingers that felt so, so outrageously good and Sebastian doesn’t want to wait another fucking second to feel more. More. More. 

“I want it,” he whispers, staring up at Chris and realizing with surprise that he’s still entirely dressed minus his shoes and socks. He’s even got his jacket on still. And the way he’s got his sleeves rolled up is stupidly attractive- like everything he does. Chris nods. Smiling softer than he has previously and breathing out slowly, making good on his promise of not wanting to hurt him as he goes through the perfunctory moves of sliding into him, one finger at a time, until he’s worked his way back up to three. Sebastian finds that he’s panting again. And squirming- but that second bit he doesn’t fully acknowledge, he’s had several ex-partners that he bottomed for comment on how needy of a bottom he is and he’s aware of that but he doesn’t want to think about it now. Not unless it’s another thing that Chris will reverently tell him. Making the filth sound like praise. 

Chris presses his pinkie inside him. 

Sebastian hears his own gutted moan only after his mouth is fully dried and his lips are gaped open. 

His rim feels stretched and tight in the best fucking way. He can feel the embarrassingly messy slide of lube dripping out of him as Chris twists his hand. It feels hot and dirty and it’s everything Sebastian’s been craving for years. He moans his appreciation and listens to Chris swear. He can feel his eyes on him again. He can feel the fucking heat in his eyes and for once Sebastian forgets his inhibitions, just living off of the desire and lust he knows Chris is feeling right along side him and he’s bearing down to get that last inch or so of Chris’ fingers, choking and moaning as he does. Feeling more tears well up in his eyes. 

“Gggod,” Sebastian groans, nearly incoherent as heat thunders through his entire being, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whimpers, keening and splitting his next attempts at words into nothing but hungry sounds when Chris chooses that moment to spread his fingers as much as he can. His thighs tremble uncontrollably and Sebastian goes to shut his legs on autopilot, delighted when he feels Chris’ body in the way like he knew he would try to do that. Electricity shoots through his veins, boiling his blood. 

“Ohmygod, oh, oh, ohmmy, god. Fuck. Please. Fuc-fucking, fuck me,” Sebastian pleads, grabbing onto the sheets for his life as Chris casually finger-fucks his brains out, thrusting right into the rocking of his hips that he can’t stop. He’s not hitting his prostate because he’s still mindful that he’s sensitive and he’s fucking flawless in that but it doesn’t matter. It’s still the fucking best thing he’s ever felt. 

Sebastian finds himself choking back another round of hysterical, frenzied giggles because he’s suddenly so incredibly aware of how much Chris is ruining him for literally anyone else. 

He’d wondered after the first time that he had slept with a guy, his friend at the time, if he would be able to go back to being in a relationship with just a guy or just a girl because he suddenly didn’t know how he could choose between the two entirely unique pleasures that those experiences provided him with. It wasn’t that he thought he wouldn’t be able to be loyal. It was just that he didn’t want to miss the other side of that coin and end up resenting his partner for it. 

That isn’t even a possibility currently. Not just because he doesn’t have any higher brain function left on account of the fire claiming his skin and bones and organs and everything, making him pant out a moan on every breath. No. He just knows. He feels it in the deepest parts of his fucking soul. He feels it in his teeth, which are currently also aching because he’s just that turned on. Chris is just different. Chris is currently ruining him from ever being satisfied by anyone else that isn’t him. 

Chris is pulling his fingers out of him. 

He whines in a completely primal response. 

He had known that Chris’ fingers we’re filling him up but he hadn’t realized just how much they were filling him up. Just how wide they were spreading him. How good they felt inside him. You don’t know what you’re missing until it’s gone, he supposes, trying to not make more embarrassing noises as a result of his first very embarrassing noise. 

Then it doesn’t matter though because he’s moaning- he can feel his body stretching and contouring around the shapes of his knuckles and fingers in general and he’s being reminded of just how much he’s been stretched open. His heart stutters though. Even though he knows something bigger and better is coming. Chris fixes him with a fond but confused look, stroking his other hand up his abs, stopping on the way to his face in order to roll of his nipples. It’s a good distraction. With Chris touching his chest and then his face while he pulls his fingers out of him he can’t even begin to imagine how he might possibly explain himself. So he doesn’t. He doesn’t worry about any of his less than rational actions or sounds. He just pulls his trembling, used, overwhelmed body up onto his elbows. 

Chris mistakes this as him wanting to get him ready, he offers up a raised eyebrow and the palm that’s cradling the open lube. 

Sebastian hangs his head back between his shoulders and breathlessly tries to explain himself, finding a stab of pride cut through him when his words aren’t just fucking whines, words have never been his strong suit in bed, “if- if you have me do that- I, uhm, I’m not gonna be able to take my hands off of you.” 

He doesn’t mention that he wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth off of him either, mostly because that’s a different topic for a different day. Sebastian cannot, to save his own life, and never has been able to keep his male partners' dicks out of his mouth. There’s something about it. He’s also always been big on getting between women’s legs so… maybe there’s something there. 

He’s too raw and strung out to dwell on that particular thought. It’s siren’s call isn’t as tempting as some others. 

But, speaking of those thoughts that do feel more urgent, he’s back to thinking about Chris with women and how fast he would cum at the brilliant show that that would be. This time it’s not as… innocent (if that can be the word he uses) as just wondering how he would go about undoing a bra. He finds himself watching Chris tear off his shirt, wiping his gleaming fingers on his own shirt, from under his heavy eyelids and trying to discern how Chris might go about eating a woman out. He’ll blame it on the fact that he’s way too overwhelmed with the fact that he’s got Chris shirtless and in bed with him. He’s also wondering how he might go about sucking someone’s dick when he’s not just doing it to relax them before he fucks them with complete abandon with his fingers. 

Sebastian shivers, getting caught up for a second or so in the last time he ate pussy at the same time that he tries to memorize the ink that’s rippling on Chris’ skin, the muscles under those tattoos perfectly sculpted. Sebastian remembers the night in vivid detail. That encounter had also been in a hotel room funnily enough. He does travel a lot but… maybe there’s also something he needs to learn about himself there too. He had been waiting in that hotel room, this wasn’t a spur of the moment thing, she had texted him and told him that he should be waiting on his knees by the end of the bed and so he had been. He hadn’t been told to undress but he knew her well enough to know that that was implied. He even took the time to fold and place his clothes out of the way, he didn’t want to have to waste time on hearing her gripe about him being a “messy boy”. And when the time had come- she hadn’t, so that was a relief. His only throughout the night. She’d come in and taken approximately four seconds to get out of her trench coat, not saying a word to address him, but she revealed a literal ‘little black dress’ and some heels so he understood why. He had discovered that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Not a bra or panties. She had just hooked one of her heeled feet around his shoulder, digging it in because she knew he would enjoy that, and held herself up using his body, demanding that he go to work and make her cum. 

He feels dizzy thinking about that. Thinking about Chris watching him do that. Watching him being so completely dominated, to the point that he would ignore his own discomfort to please someone else (he didn’t know what hurt worse that night, his cock or his neck). Maybe touching himself too and telling him just how he should use his tongue and when to get his fingers into the game, when to breathe even. Maybe making him crawl over to where he would be sitting so he could get to use his mouth too. 

Sebastian swallows all of those jumbled, wicked words that want to come falling out of his mouth so that he can tell Chris about his newly realized idea. He swallows again. He just got Chris here. He doesn’t want to scare him away with that. He knows Chris is into women - that’s not the issue - but he also knows he’s entirely loyal and therefore probably a little too monogamous for that to happen. His dick doesn’t know that though. 

And they need to get a fucking move on or his wandering mind is going to turn this into a shortened experience. Again, his dick isn’t as good at reasoning as his head is. That’s what usually gets him into trouble with more, uhm, controlling partners. He needs to get fucked out of his mind. Like now. 

Sebastian returns himself to the actual fantasy unfolding in reality instead of all the potentials pooling in his mind that have his dick leaking over his stomach more. He needs to seriously reassess what his fantasy Chris looks like. The real thing is about a million times better. 

Just thinking about his dick is a bad idea though. It brings it’s pleasurable and painful ache back to the forefront of his mind and that’s not good because it just makes him that much more aware of how engorged and fattened up he is. He simultaneously hopes Chris is just worked up because that would mean he’s not alone in this and he also hopes that he’s nowhere near as turned on because that would mean he could spend that much longer fucking him before he cums. Although- 

There’s a reason Sebastian was disappointed to see that Chris is just as prepared as a fucking boy scout. 

He really, really wants Chris to fill him up. He wants to feel him cum in him and then feel it run out of him. He can’t hide it. Not to Chris and possibly not to other partners who’ve not known him quiet as well. There’s just some fucking compulsion inside him that loves getting filled up. Feeling the release of his partner as well as hearing and seeing it. Getting his hole drenched with burning hot release. It’s too good to pass up when available. 

Too good, just like the sight of Chris pulling his legs up to detangle his ankles and feet from his pants, the long, strong, thick yet lean muscles of his thighs jumping and moving and Sebastian’s mouth actually waters. He wants to bite him. To taste every area of him. Certainly he wants to get his mouth on his cock- which, hello, how did he forget about that> God. Just seeing the bulge in his boxer briefs has Sebastian tilting his hips back into the bed and seriously considering if it would be worth it to stick his fingers in his mouth so he can put something back into himself while Chris gets naked and slick. 

It doesn’t matter because the second Sebastian starts moving into the bed Chris stops moving. A challenging look crosses his handsome face, it makes his lust-darkened eyes look a little wild- a little feral and dangerous. It actually fucking pulls a noise out of Sebastian’s throat; that look. It’s just fucking unfair. The things that man can not only do with his body but his face. 

The message is clear. If you move… then I’m not going to. 

Sebastian openly pouts, like, he actually pushes his lower lip out and lets his mouth droop into something of a petulant frown. Chris just chuckles and coos, “ahw, look at you, huh, baby? You feeling it? Feeling needy?” 

Sebastian can’t stop the whiny, “yes!” that comes barreling out of his lips. 

Chris walks- no. No, he stalks forward. Prowling like he’s on a mission. He climbs onto the bed and crawls up the mattress until his arms are bracketing his head and his palms have the mattress fighting to keep Sebastian’s head stable as well as Chris’ hands. Sebastian has never felt less like he’s a six foot tall man. Chris looks more than pleased with himself. It’s a gorgeous look on him- his lips pulled up into a smirk that from an outsider's perspective might seem mean or mocking, his eyes narrowed slightly like he’s about ready to rip into him with some classic words that most people fear (something like ‘I know you could’ve done better’ or ‘I’m not angry, just disappointed’) while he almost might be on the verge of spilling the sweetest praise. A whimper finds its way out from his shut mouth. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. He wants to squirm just to see what Chris will do but he also can’t fight, and never has been able to, the needs inside him to obey. To listen to whatever Chris wants and needs and asks of him and be good. 

“Feeling small,” Chris whispers, ducking down to nip at the top of his ear and send shocks of pleasure through his neck and shoulders. Sebastian has no idea what he means until he places a hand on his jaw, prying it open, well, he can’t really pry it open when almost instinctively Sebastian’s mouth falls open. Either way, Sebastian understands when he licks into his mouth and breathes heavily once, allowing even more tension to grow inside him, “check.” 

Sebastian shivers. It’s not the word itself. 

It’s the way it’s delivered. It’s what Chris has established that that word now means. He might as well have sat Sebastian down and convinced him that the word no longer has it’s old definition, that instead it’s now got some sexy upgrade. Sebastian would’ve had the same reaction to that. He’s so, so gullible for Chris. 

“I get all of that,” Chris traces all-consuming fingertips down his neck, retracing his steps back up once he reaches the center point of his shoulders between his collarbones, “but,” his breath washes over Sebastian’s lower face like a mask of desire, “what is it about unsafe sex that gets you, huh?” Sebastian feels like he’s in the middle of a fucking NFL stadium, the only light having been turned on him. He’s more than a deer caught in headlights. He’s splitting all of his blood in a perfect fifty-fifty between his weeping dick and his flushed face. “You want me to guess? Try and peg you?” Chris chuckles, nipping his lower lip and dragging it out before letting the flesh slap against his teeth with a strangely arousing noise considering that it’s coming from his own body and not Chris’. God. He’s going insane. 

“Bad choice of words,” Chris muses and Sebastian doesn’t get it. He’s caught up in the spinning merry-go-round in his head of the bluntness of the first question Chris asked him. He only gets it when Chris grins, looking a little more feral everytime he opens his mouth. Sebastian barely is able to process the words that come out of the other man because he’s also processing the way Chris has dropped his body so his dick, hard and wet, is rubbing against his stomach. Chris is making him go so stupid it’s more than absurd. 

“Well, bad choice of words for what I’m about to do to you, Seb. Jesus, I’d pay to see that. Watch you under some girl- getting fucking wrecked.” 

Oh. 

Oh. Peg. Pegging. Yeah, fuck. 

Sebastian’s gasping, choking on the breath coming out of Chris, the air that they’re sharing, and also gasping because he knows what that feels like but he doesn’t know what it would feel like to have Chris watch him. Somehow even the ridiculous image that his irrational mind is bringing up, of Chris throwing some bills on top of a woman that’s plowing him and wolf-whistling before sitting back to watch and pretend to flash more bills inside of his wallet is making him hot. 

Chris continues to rearrange his expressions and noises into sentences that he can easily read, like he’s not even thinking while doing it, rubbing more of his massive fucking cock on his skin, the pressure and heat exquisite, and making him want to fucking crawl out of his skin with how fucking wild this is driving him. He feels so good. Long but fucking thick too. And maybe it’s just his cock-drunk brain but he’s seriously considering how not that different, size wise, it would feel to press his forearm against himself at that particular angle. He might have to do that the next time he jerks off. For scientific reasons. Just a little comparison if you will. 

“How about this,” Chris hooks two fingers into his mouth, the pads of his fingers drag over his tongue roughly, which makes saliva flood into his mouth as he opens his jaw. Sebastian melts into it, feeling like a touch-starved kitten leaning into someone’s hand, “I’m gonna get into you, now, ‘cause we can’t have all that work going to waste,” his other hand hooks the tips of his fingers into just the first part of his body, pulling him open in a more erotic and intimate version of the way he shoved his fingers into his mouth. Every move Chris makes is leaving him reeling and melting. “I’m gonna talk and you’re going to listen.” 

Sebastian’s nodding before he’s even done talking. Keeping his lips shut tight- he doesn’t want to break any possible rules. Mostly though, he just wants to hear more of what Chris has got on him. He’s flipped over then, Chris using his super-soldier muscles to move him like he isn’t also built in a similar way. Chris has always been stronger than him. 

Resting on his belly Chris lines up himself. Straying away for one moment to grab one of the absurdly fluffy yet firm hotel pillows. The other man’s dick nestles itself in between his cheeks as he grabs for the cushion and it’s fucking heaven. It’s hot. And good. Heavenly… well, it feels like heaven now but he knows what’s coming next is also going to feel like heaven so surely there’s a different word, right? One that might hope to encapsulate the complete pleasure that’s already beginning to take up most of the room in his veins. The snatched pillow is pressed between his body and bed. The price to pay is Chris moving away slightly after the pillow is placed. Tilting his hips back and up, putting him on display; it’s much more of a vulnerable position than he thought it would be. Damn tall ass hotel pillows. 

Sebastian’s cheeks are already burning from embarrassment with being put out to admire like a fucking canvas on an art gallerie’s wall but suddenly feeling the solid tip of Chris’ cock slide between his cheeks and drag slightly over his entrance it’s not making him feel less embarrassed, he knows what his reaction will likely be. It’s something to witness he’s been told. It still is good though- even if he’s embarrassed. It feels better than it has the right to be. Sebastian chokes on a silent noise. Fuck. Fucking- fuck. Oh. God. 

He feels like his brain is blue-screening. 

Sebastian whimpers thinly, unsure of how to go about things from here. As much as he wants to watch Chris plow him, to admire the way the ink in his skin ripples right along with those packed muscles, he also knows that logically this is the best plan of action to take. Doggy-style always makes the first part of hooking up the easiest. Especially when the person who’s going to be inside you looks like their cock might actually leave him gaping. 

Chris’ huge palms run down from his shoulders to his ass. He coos something quietly- Sebastian doesn’t have the peace of mind to acknowledge his words. He’s trying to work his way through the thick fog of pleasure invading him through every orifice. 

By the time his palms meet his ass those touches aren’t innocent at all anymore, by the time Chris has his hands on his ass he’s grabbing his butt and groping him. Hopefully the grip will leave him with some kind of bruises. He wants Chris to make him his, he wants to wear his marks like trophies. Sebastian cries out in the middle of another dirty thought when Chris pushes the mounds of muscle that make up his ass together and mold the flesh around his cock. It’s delightfully horrendous because he’s still not sliding into him. He’s just teasing. And Sebastian’s seriously debating if he should just abandon his plans to get fucked, to save those for another time, and ask for Chris to grind against him and let him hump the bed to get off. Maybe smack him around a little too if they end up dry humping like teenagers. Both sound like fantastic options. 

His thoughts scatter like pigeons at the very next second though. Chris is pushing into him. Taking some of his body weight off of him in order to slot his dick where he wants it. Arousal zings through Sebastian like nobody's business. His toes curl up and his fingers bite into the white sheets. The lack of Chris pressing his body into the bed has Sebastian feeling dirty because he now can feel that some of the lube Chris used to slick himself up is now spread generously between his cheeks, a shaky moan makes it out of him. He grinds down a little without meaning to, it just feels so good, he feels wet. He feels filthy and gleeful with how much lube is smeared around his more intimate areas. Everything is fucking perfect. 

Wet and strung out and perfect and he’s again ready to cum and has been for so long that he’s not sure if he’ll be able to warn Chris as to when he’s really actually about to cum. Chris keeps doing what he’s doing. He’s either oblivious about just how good he is with his hands or he’s getting off on knowing that Sebastian’s quickly plummeting through his sanity to a land of orgasmic pleasure. 

Chris keeps pushing nevertheless. Sliding in as slow as someone can possibly manage- Seb feels every ridge and vein and different texture of the other man’s dick as it slides in. It’s intoxicating. It’s nothing but the complete truth that Sebastian’s salivating from the sensation, it’s indescribable how much he needs to get that fucking dick in his mouth as soon as they’re ready for a second wind. Next time. Next time has got to happen- he’s not entirely sure now, feeling all of this, how he got by without it previously.

Chris hasn’t stopped moving yet. 

The pace of his hips sliding themselves home is just one long string of heat being plunged into him. It’s making his insides come alive. Burning him with the hot, wet, tight slide of his cock. Sebastian feels his balls tighten, he’s so achy. 

Sebastian helplessly keens, his lips trembling and parting wider with every additional millimeter of his cock that’s fed into him. It feels like he’s too small for all of Chris to fit. Like- like, he’s going to be forced apart on Chris’ cock. 

It should be a scary thought but… Sebastian isn’t anything if not a slut for being stretched open. 

Without his brain being fully online Sebastian forgets to breathe, he feels like he’s sitting under the surface of a pool except the water isn’t water. It’s electric flames that have his muscles twitching with the excess energy that he can’t get rid of. There’s just too much good washing over him, he can’t do anything, he just allows his mouth to hang open even as he starts to drool. He can’t handle it. Fucking. Shit. 

Chris stops pushing- although with his complete lack of speed it doesn’t help much with the need to keep himself from cumming. It kinda makes it worse. Sebastian wants to be fucked. His hole is throbbing hungry and his balls legitimately feel swollen and tender between his legs. And because Chris isn’t moving that’s all he can think of and feel. God. Bless whatever deity allowed him this because he can feel Chris’ cock pulsing inside him. He can faintly hear little curses and short groans. Who knows how loud they actually are though, ninety-nine percent of Sebastian’s brain is being used to absorb pleasure and trying to ignore the screaming primal animal inside him that wants it rough. Hard. He doesn’t want to be treated like glass. But he also really, really wants to be good. He wants Chris to be pleased and it seems that he likes to tease, Sebastian pants shallowly, he can do this. He can hold on against the onslaught of hot static that’s consuming his entire being. He can. He will. He’ll be good. 

He wants to be good. He wants Chris to tell him that he’s good. 

“Seb!” 

“Mmm?” Sebastian reponds, knowing he’s missed something via the tone of Chris’ voice. His eyes are still shut and his breathing isn’t exactly what you would call stable, maybe it’s not even what you would call breathing, either way Sebastian is having a fucking time. It’s the best thing Sebastian’s felt in a while. Having Chris' thick cock stretching him full from one end but feeling like he’s big enough that his dick is even in his throat too. Heaven is the only word he can think of so he keeps repeating it in his head as if it’ll save him from blowing his load, like, immediately. Chris’ hips twitch forward in a graceless, not so gentle movement that makes Sebastian think it wasn’t intentional. He smirks into the bed, resolutely disregarding the wet patch he’s made, Chris is just as affected. He’s just better at keeping himself under control while Sebastian just can’t help but turn into mush. 

“Breathe, baby, breathe. Did I not stretch you enough? Should I pull out? Seb?” 

Sebastian doesn’t know how to respond, in fact he’s not even sure if he would be able to respond in english or in romanian. There would be noises if he opened his mouth, he knows that, but whether or not they’d be audible and understandable words is a different story. Chris’ hips tip away from him, making his dick slide out the tiniest amount. Sebastian half moans because it feels good, but he also whimpers because he doesn't want that, he doesn’t want to be empty. 

“Hey,” Chris whispers, putting that tone into his voice that drips with authority, “Sebastian. Are you okay?” 

Okay. Oh. Orders. Sebastian can follow orders. He wants him to breathe. To give him an answer to if he’s hurt or not. 

Orders. Okay. 

Sebastian begins by attempting to suck in a breath through his nose but he just finds himself giggling as he tries to at least exhale now that he’s got air back into his body. It doesn’t work too well. He probably sounds insane, giggling and acting drunk when he hasn’t even downed a whole beer, “‘m great.” He pauses to pant out more useless breaths because he apparently can’t do anything with Chris inside him- it’s too mind blowing. He literally takes up too much space inside of him. His throat breaks back into hysterical little giggles, “forgot how big you, you are.” 

Chris makes a curious noise, “huh.” Sebastian can hear the trouble brewing in his voice, in preparation he tightens his inner walls around Chris. It’s a good fucking decision on his part because the moan that is pulled out of Chris will be featured in many, many future wet-dreams, “well, guh, well, I figured that out already, didn’t I?” Sebastian has no idea how to respond or what the thing is that he already discovered. He’s too lost in the throbbing of his hole and the fire that’s leaching out to every single inch of his body. “Pegged you, yeah, haha,” Sebastian giggles a little more, trying desperately to reel himself in, “funny, I know. But I already know you have a thing for size… it’s just interesting how much you like it.” 

“Do, uhm, do you like it?” Sebastian tries to banish the whine from his tone of voice. It doesn’t exactly work. Or maybe it works perfectly. It’s hard to hear his own voice above pounding arousal and blood and pleasure that’s reeking havoc on his body. Sebastian makes a small noise, relaxing himself as Chris thorbs inside of him again. So much for catching his breath. 

“Baby, I love it.” A finger strokes the stretched circle of his rim, shivering flames spiral down his legs and up into the pool of lava sitting in his stomach, “it’s good to know you’re in touch with your kinks.” 

Sebastian knows that that probably shouldn’t make him hot but it does. Most of his body feels like it’s flushed, like he’s completely pink with arousal. That or it’s just more flames licking their way up to his dick (which has yet to stop weeping). Sebastian wiggles his hips as much as he can manage, extracting even more sounds from the other man that’s currently… well, it feels like he’s roughly halfway into him based on how it feels when he sleeps with men but. Maybe. Maybe, he’s not. 

The illogical part of Sebastian’s brain that comes out when he’s drunk or getting laid swings full force into him. Yelling at him to just thrust himself straight back onto Chris’ cock, once more, he’s helpless to not follow through with orders. 

An indescribable hungry, lust-fueled noise drips out of his lips. Shock sparkles through Sebastian’s body so intensely that his vision whites out completely, his ears ring even more, lava flows through his veins. Boiling his blood. 

Chris isn’t much better off. 

He gasps and then fucking growls.

Sebastian has never, in his entire life, heard anything as hot come out of anyone. Sebastian feels his dick twitch against the pillow that it’s resting on. Breathy moans just keep coming out of Sebastian. He’s never. Never. Just, god, he’s never felt so fucking full. He’s not ambitious enough, or possibly brave enough, to have ever purchased a toy that rivals Chris’ size and having him pulsing inside of him he’s wondering if he’s even got a toy that’s roughly the same size as Chris. He doesn’t think he does. He feels like his insides are being rearranged by the thickness and length of his gorgeous cock. 

“Hhnng, Seb,” Chris pants, “jesus, fuck. God. Why’d you do that?” 

Sebastian laughs, his shoulders tremble violently, he’s got no idea what he’s about to say until the words come out of his mouth, “you were taking too long.” Chris leans in, blanketing his back with his chest, Sebastian imagines how all those fucking tattoos look, sitting above all the perfectly sculpted architecture of his muscles. He gets distracted again though. 

“Was I now?” Chris’ lips gently kiss the shell of his ear, his voice is extra husky then, who knows if it’s the angle that feels better for him or if it’s just the show Sebastian put on before thinking about the consequences. 

Uh-oh. Oh. Oh, fuck. 

He’s becoming more than attuned to that tone of voice. He feels like a child again- being called into the principal's office. His stomach is full of desire and lead. He’s got no idea what devious, unfair thing is coming. 

“Well, gorgeous, forgive me. I don’t wanna hurt you. I know you might be a slut but you’re also human and tomorrow we’ve got more press…” he trails off, letting his voice grow quieter. “Excuse me for thinking of your comfort.”

Sebastian moans, “‘m sorry, just, pl-please!” 

“Please what?” Chris’ voice is stupidly even while he pulls his cock back smoothly before thrusting in hard enough that Sebastian’s ass stings a little. He shouts and then whines when no more rams of his hips follow. He feels the most like a deprived house-wife that’s taken a liking to the washing machine for a new inappropriate use. He wants something. Anything. 

“More, more of that. Please. Chris.” He sounds needy, desperate, and a whole other host of things that burn a trail down his throat to his stomach. He chokes on his breaths and on his words and on his own fucking spit. It’s disorienting to feel so much yet so little of what he really wants. He’s not going to last. 

Hands grab for his shoulders, Chris’ body heat seeps into him, he feels more sweat roll up his back. His hips being higher than his chest because of the pillow. 

Chris uses that casual grip to pull him up and off of the bed. Sebastian shivers and inquires lazily with a half baked sound, reaching up with his useless hands to pet over Chris’. Chris doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t move them either, he just feels himself being tugged back harder. He revels in the feeling, carnal desire pooling inside his body. 

Then he’s sitting on Chris’ lap, on his cock, back to chest, whimpering under every exhalation. He feels completely restless. He’s so fucking hard. So achy. He squirms as much as he can, fighting more of those pathetic noises out of habit because he’s pretty sure Chris is into them. There isn’t really any movement at all though because as soon as he starts thinking about moving Chris is done holding his shoulders with both of his hands and has instead placed one between his legs. Automatically Sebastian wants to close his legs. He’s so fucking sensitve there - just a graze of a fingertip might set him off - he won’t be able to hold on to the scrap of sanity he has left if Chris starts playing with his balls or dick. Even though they both are pulsing with heat. 

“I- I, uhm,” Sebastian soaks in the pleasure, trying to get his warning out. He honestly is sort of wondering, in the back of his mind, how the fuck all of Chris fit into him. It feels like his dick is taking up every inch of extra space. Like he’s stuffed full. He can’t even try to compose himself and banish the full body tremor that takes him over when he thinks about how stretched his rim feels. Will he be gaping when Chris is done with him? More meaningless sounds tumble out- even he himself isn’t sure if they were going to be more words or not. 

“Hmm, what’s up, pretty baby?” Heat cuts into Sebastian. Damn Chris for not sounding like he’s affected- Sebastian can literally feel how hard his cock is. How can his voice be stable? His own cock throbs in sympathy, adding to the perfect agony of being denied his release. 

“I, I… I’m, I’ll. Guh.” Sebastian lets his head loll back onto Chris’ shoulder, stuttering, panting, and marveling at the view he’s got. The strong shape of his jaw and all of that bare skin. A rivlet of sweat rolls down Sebastian’s back. He silently begs with all of his heart for Chris to give him a free pass. To have mercy and to not drag out his mind and body until he’s nothing but a puddle of lust. 

“Huh?” Chris teases, “I can’t understand you. You gotta tell me what you want.” 

The fucker. So much for mercy. Sebastian presses his hips back and down as hard as he can when he’s lacking any semblance of leverage. Fuck this. His being feels raw and hot. Chris has apparently decided that he wasn’t going to stroke him and instead he’s clamped both of his arms around him. He has no idea why that happened. Sebastian can feel dizzyingly well just how solid he is everywhere. His muscles and his cock. He’s so fucking real in a way that Sebastian never thought he would- he’s dreamt of Chris but the real thing… it’s no fucking comparision. It can’t be. Chris squeezes him harder, he apparently moved or something, he doesn’t feel in control of his body but in the best way, he’s not in control of himself because he’s handed all of himself over to Chris. His left arm is around his waist and his right is over his chest, looping under his armpits. Chris does something with his right arm, it feels kinda like he’s flexing but- 

Oh. Fuck. 

The hair on his arm scrapes over his nipples. Sebastian hiccups and his jaw drops open shortly after when the sensation doesn’t stop; he barely bites down a sob and nearly starts to hyperventilate a little, erotic heat crawls over all of his bared body. Jesus. The effect this man has on him… 

Chris jostles him again, rubbing his forearm against his chest with just the tiniest increased amount of pressure. That had to be intentional. There’s no way Chris is accidently being a fucking sex god. The pressure increases at the same time that Chris’ cock twitches inside of him. Desire curls hot and heavy inside his chest. Sebastian can’t stop his sob this time, he also can’t stop the words that burst out of him; they’re startlingly clear in showing just how desperate he is. 

“Wanna cum.” He sniffles, rolling his head to the side, tucking his face into the crook between Chris’ neck and shoulder. God, he sounds pathetic but he’ll be pathetic for the rest of his life if it gets Chris to look at him like that, “wanna, wanna, want. You. I. Please. Wanna get- fuck me.” 

“Yeah?” Chris breathes down his neck, predatory, loosening his lowest arm and using that wiggle room to circle his hips. Sebastian melts into a pile of goo. He’s not even moving a muscle and Chris isn’t having any fucking issues with that. Sounds that usually don’t come out of him until he’s been fucked for hours or teased for hours spill out of him- he feels like they’ve been having a sex marathon even though it can’t have even been at it more than an hour and a half. And most of that time Sebastian’s not had anything inside of him. He’s always been “a needy bottom” (as one of his ex’s jokingly called him) but this is different. Chris is exploiting him perfectly. 

“Yeah, you wanna cum,” Sebastian forgot that Chris had been talking, but when he remembers he settles in for a fucking ride. A ride that’s hopefully more pleasing than the torture of being made to do tiny little circles with his hips as he sits on the best fucking dick he’s seen or had. He wants more than teases of pleasure in the form of sparks that could light him up, only if they were held closer and nursed for longer. He’s just getting a taste of getting plowed. It’s not enough. He wants to devour the feeling of being royally fucked. “You wanna cum, I know, but…” his pitch changes darkly, “you know I also wanna cum. ‘S why I’m going slow. Wanna get you wrecked before I cum.” 

Sebastian mumbles what’s supposed to be, “you already have,” but he’s not lucid enough to know if Chris understood or heard in the first place. All he can do is hang on for the ride.

“So…” he drawls, “you gonna make me pull out when it’s my turn?” Sebastian doesn’t connect the dots, he pants out a few sighs, trying in vain to relax himself so he might have a chance at answering correctly. It’s a fruitless effort though, his body wants nothing more than to milk Chris for everything he’s got. 

He’s still just a box of matchsticks though, some of them already ablaze, and he’s not yet sure if Chris is a firefighter or an arsonist. He can’t wait to find out. 

“I’ll pull out if you want, Seb,” Sebastian has now found the dots. He still can’t connect them, not until Chris keeps going, “but I don’t think you want that. See, I think you want me inside you when you cum and when I do.” Chris uses the hand he had around the top of his chest to tilt his head so far back that it cracks, Sebastian has never minded anything less than he does in that moment because it’s so muddled with so much satisfaction and pleasure. He can’t tell if he’s blushing more or not. Everything besides the points of contact between them has been erased completely from Seb’s world. “That’s what I think. You’re so dirty. And so pretty, pretty enough that you almost look innocent, but you’ve gotta say it if you want it.” 

“Cum in me. God. In me.” 

Sebastian doesn’t realize he’s spoken until Chris sighs and whispers hotly, “you’re such a cum-slut. …Check. And just a slut in general. A slut, Seb. Gorgeous and filthy, huh? First you didn’t want me to wear a condom and now you're begging to be fucked, oh, and you’re also begging me to cum inside you.” Just hearing Chris state those facts, all of which he’s very aware of, has him spacing out even more. Floating higher and higher on endorphins and serotonin and feeling like no other sensation except hot bolts of pleasure exist. The juxtaposition of such naughty, almost degrading words and names mixed in with so many compliments has Sebastian floundering. He’s got no idea what to do with himself. 

Chris goes eerily quiet, paying all of his attention to lifting their bodies up slightly. Sebastian feels more sweat roll down his skin at the thought of lifting himself and Chris. Chris has always been stronger and it doesn’t seem to bother him all that much, but it bothers Sebastian because there’s something hot and carnal about being tossed around. 

Then Chris settles himself back onto the mattress and holds Sebastian up still. Like it’s no big deal. 

He lowers him just slightly and whispers something that’s too fast for Seb to understand the individual words but he gets enough. It’s a warning. 

And for good reason too, because Sebastian is fairly sure he blacks out in that moment. 

Chris thrusts up into him once, twice, and a third time, hitting deep inside his body and making his eyes roll all the way back. The contact of his hips and upper thighs to Sebastian’s ass is the sweetest burn, like if you imagine what it feels like for the sugar on top creme brulee, sweet and stinging. Burning a little too. Sebastian makes a garbled noise. He feels like his body is nothing but a cup full of lust and soon it’s going to spill over. He hears Chris’ breathing hitch in a silent response to all of his noises. When Chris pulls out the fourth time, following the established pattern they’ve set he changes it a little, instead of using his legs and core to thrust up into him, Sebastian’s being forced back onto his dick. His hands shove his shoulders down and he’s fucking himself on Chris’ cock without using his own strength. He could if he wanted. But Chris is the one calling the shots and that’s something that Sebastian desperately loves. Hot arousal burns through him. He’s being used like a sex toy. Like a fleshlight. He’s being used to give Chris pleasure and, yeah, he’s getting pleasure from this but it’s clear that Chris isn’t using this position to hit his prostate. He’s using it to get deeper inside him. He’s using him as a hot hole to stick is cock in. 

He knows Chris cares for him, he does, their earlier conversation proves that, but he can gladly ignore that for now. He wants to be used. 

Sebastian’s puppeted through another good and hard four thrusts. Making half-broken noises all the while, he curls his toes and arches his back. Panting wetly into Chris’ neck. He feels out of control of himself in the best fucking way ever. When he does stop Sebastian whimpers and impulsively nips at the skin of the other man’s thick neck, he knows Chris is only human and that that can’t be easy to execute but it felt so good. He kind of wants to cry, he wants to whine or whimper until Chris keeps fucking into him. It felt so, so good. Chris groans gutturally and Sebastian can feel the vibrations from his chest. 

“No marks, pretty,” Chris says, sounding remorseful and out of breath. Giddily he grins, Chris is out of breath, he’s making sounds, and he’s so hard inside of him that even if they’d spent hours on prep he’d still end up sore. Although the actual words don’t make him feel the same way. Sometimes Sebastian hates being ‘famous’. Especially today. He wanted to makeout with Chris in the hall and couldn’t. Who knows where the paps hang out? He wants to suck marks all over him and he can’t. Not if he wants to keep on good terms with the make-up artists. He wants to tell everyone that Chris is ruining him for everyone else but that’s not an option. It’s also ridiculous that it’s not a good career option. Sure, he can make out with men on camera and it’s fine and dandy but the second that the cameras turn off it’s not celebrated. It’s the opposite. 

What is an option though is being shoved face first into the bed. 

Sebastian squeaks and then moans because Chris follows him,pulling out before ramming back into him. 

“I could guess all night where you prefer to be but you should tell me so we don’t have to go through the list.” Chris is grinning, he can hear it as well as feel it pressed against the nape of his neck. Sebastian takes a moment to let his words process, to slip through the sticky-honey atmosphere of his mind, and also he takes a breather to feel everything. Having Chris Evans pressing him into his hotel room like he wants to rip him open and put him back together after isn’t something that happens everyday. He’s going to savor every second of it. 

A last thread of logical thinking appears in the front of his head, “if I don’t tell you… guh. Ah!” Chris is tracing a fingertip around the circle of his nipple, it’s a problem. A distraction. He shakes himself, searching for the rest of his words, “if, if I don’t- do we get to try everything on that list?” 

He knows he’s being a bit of a brat but he can’t help it.

Chris pauses, thinking no doubt, “no.” 

“No?” Sebastian echoes. 

“I mean yeah, sure we can do that but, y’know, you’d have to wait until the last one on the list to cum.” 

Sebastian gasps, instinctively squeezing around Chris as he slowly slides out of his body, “nnno.” His bottom lip trembles, “no. No- please. I wanna cum.” He’s not even sure if he’s crying or if he’s sweating or if he just sounds like he’s crying. He’s not sure what he’s begging for either.

“You’ll get to cum, sweetheart,” he clears his throat and weaves a hand into his hair. Sebastian gasps purely in anticipation. He wants that. Everything. He wants his hair pulled, he wants to try every position Chris can come up with, he wants to be denied until he’s out of his mind (well, he wants that after he finally gets to cum. Everything. Sebastian wants to do and try everything with Chris. 

Sebastian moans, the pitch changing as Chris pulls harder on his hair, making his throat open and his neck arch, “so?” 

Sebastian sobs, “here. This. Please. Chris. Please. Pleasepleasepleas-” 

A chuckle greets his voice, their sounds meeting and entangling somewhere in their shared world that’s encased in Chris’ hotel room. It’s comforting and degrading and it makes Sebastian feel a type of way that he can’t explain. With another tug on his hair Chris rearranges himself. Sebastian can feel the mattress moving but he can’t place what Chris is doing. Not until Chris thrusts back in. Not as slow as previously but slower than Sebastian wants, the fires burning through the landscape of his body ignite with a renewed vigor. 

Halfway through pulling out Sebastian gets a slap on the ass, centered perfectly over where one of Chris’ prominent hip bones was smacking into his flesh. Sebastian doesn’t need the assistance of Chris’ hand in his hair that time to tip his head all the way back, he just does it, reckless with all the feelings building up inside him. He can’t take it sitting still. Chris returns his own moan. It’s the hottest thing Sebastian’s ever heard, the way Chris’ lips and tongue curl into such an erotic, intimate sound. He wants to hear it again. He wants everything Chris can give him because he’s got nothing left- he’s given it all to Chris. He’s handed over his hand of cards and is asking him to play the best game that he can with both of their cards. Combined. 

“Harder,” Sebastian grits out, his voice rougher than it was just moments ago. 

And harder he gets. Both with the thrusts of Chris’ trim hips and in the smack that lands over where the previous one was. He hopes he’ll get some bruises or at least some kind of marks to remember this for later. Maybe he can also press on them later- get off to the memory of Chris’ hands ensnaring his body in a cocoon of pleasure. He wants to have palpable proof that something can feel as good as this. He needs bruises, scratches, and bite marks. He needs it all. But mostly he needs it rough. 

Sweat drips down his jaw, it makes the feeling of his brain turning to mush come about even stronger, and every time Chris slides all the way into him there’s more noises falling out of his lips. He doesn’t know what any of them mean other than more. He can taste salt, either from his tears or his sweat or possibly a cocktail of both, and he can taste blood too because apparently he’s chewed on his lips and the inside of his cheek too much. He imagines what Chris looks like behind him because there’s no way he can get up. Chris is stronger and therefore heavier. He’s stuck in the place on earth that comes the closest to heaven. He’s shaking like a leaf and if he’s not careful he might tear like one too… although he does kind of want that. He wants Chris to tear him apart and make every nerve inside his body sing. 

Chris spanks him one last time, much harder than the previous ones, and switches gears, reaching for his hair. Pulling and forcing all of the gutted, trapped noises he knew and didn’t know he had inside him out. But he doesn’t stay holding onto him like that for long at all. No. He moves so his hand is pressing Sebastian’s lower back down. Sebastian collapses gracelessly from his hands and knees to his forearms and knees. 

And he screams. 

He wails a little too. Possibly he also may have called out for Chris but he can’t be sure as the head of Chris’ cock has begun hitting perfectly over his prostate and it’s the only thing Sebastian knows for a solid minute. Just that Chris has hit him in just the right way. Everything but the tsunami of pleasure capable of taking out manhattan is drowned out- he’s being washed out to sea. There’s no return in sight. He’s lost in the most exciting way. 

Chris keeps fucking hammering into him, their flesh meets with obscene noises that ring in Sebastian’s ears and cover him like a blanket, making every inch of his skin come alive. He’s never felt so much. Not ever. He feels so fucking alive because there isn’t one part of him that isn’t interested in what’s happening right here. 

Sebastian makes another noise that’s unrecognizable when compared with his normal speaking register, Chris won’t let up on his hair and it’s got him barreling towards orgasm. Well. That and everything else. The sweet yet dirty and mean pulses of his hips that seem to dig his cock even deeper into him each time, Sebastian is actually more inclined to call the fluid movements of his body as humping rather than pulsing or thrusting. He’s clearly not thinking too hard. He’s just responding to the sounds Sebastian’s making. It brings another round of goosebumps that aren’t there from a sexy feeling. It’s from a sappy feeling. The beat of Chris’ breath washing down his body like a predatory wind. The smacking of his dick, which is probably purple by now, against his stomach. And the drag of his balls on the bed when Chris moves forward a little too eagerly. And the best thing. The tight, full, so mother-fucking full, feeling of his cock inside of him. It’s like it’s packed into his body. There’s no room for him to breathe because he’s too full to expand his lungs. 

“Yeah, god, Seb. Look at you, taking it like a good boy.” Sebastian whimpers, high and thin. It’s like there’s fire ants crawling all over his body, making sure not one miniscule part of him is left untouched and unsatisfied. More spit leaks out of his mouth. He pants harder and his brain makes the connection of, hey, isn’t that dangerously close to something that Chris might say to Dodger? Wouldn’t he use that same gorgeous lower register of his voice to coax an animal over to him? Wouldn’t it be good to do nothing but what Chris wants him to do. To wear his collar like a ring and know it’s because he belongs here. With Chris. At his feet. 

Sebastian doesn’t realize that he’s panting and begging and crying out the same word over and over and over until Chris responds. He drags the blunt nails of one of his hands down his flank, Sebastian chokes, he’s been repeating the word (or a sloppy approximation of it) “yours.” 

“Mine.” Chris growls, his voice purely composed of controlled power. He drips authority like he’s just gotten out of the shower. And, fuck, there’s a new plot for a daydream. Getting to watch Chris shower. Maybe being forced to watch Chris get off in the shower and not being allowed to touch himself- he’s been to Chris’ house, he knows he has a massive glass shower stall. 

Chris fists his hair and tilts his head as far back as he can, stopping his more wild movement so he can just pulse his hips, keeping pressure on his prostate the entire time, “say it again. Then you can cum.” 

“Yours,” Sebastian cries out, high and breathy. 

Either Chris is fantastic at reading him or at guessing what he’s thinking (and who knows maybe he can just read his mind) because Sebastian wasn’t even aware that he was ready to cum, well, he’s been ready. He wasn’t aware that he only had a thread of control left. The explicit permission slash command has Sebastian flying, shooting his release all over the bed and his abs- he feels like a rock loaded inside a slingshot. One second all is still and perfect and the next the world is blurry chaos around him. Chaos that feels illegally good. 

It feels like he shouldn’t be able to feel so good. Like his brain has found a loophole to the rules of the universe and he’s unlocked something that doesn’t exist. The assault is just that, an assault; powerful, unstoppable, overwhelming, and perfect. 

The perfection only rises to unbelievable heights when heat rushes into him, punctuated by a sound that he’ll never forget and never come close to replicating through his own words, his internal monologue, or his writing. ‘Too good to be true’ has never been so true. And it’s certianly never been so fucking sexy. 

Sebastian swallows around the low grade sandpaper that has replaced his tongue and the inside of his mouth. He hears his throat click as he tries to swallow. His eyes feel like they weigh a ton each so he leaves them be, every man for himself, he licks his lips. Finding them hot and slick, swollen too. Sebastian sighs. He hears rushed footsteps, he’d know those anywhere. 

The footsteps are from Chris. Particularly an anxious Chris- his gate changes both minutely and majorly when he’s scared and or on the edge of panic. 

Hands skirt over his shoulders and down his spine, Sebastian uses every remaining reserve of his energy to feel the tiniest bit shy as Chris parts his legs for him. Wrapping those fingers around the part of his thigh that’s located just above his knee, spreading him wide. Instead of his hands coming back in contact with his skin though Sebastian feels a towel. It’s not unpleasant, per say, it’s just not as good as having just Chris touch him. It’s not body temperature and it doesn’t have that smell that is unique to the other man. 

Sebastian’s eyes flick open when he feels Chris’ release leak out of him. 

It shouldn’t make him feel embarrassed… but it does. It also kinda makes him sad. He wants to be marked up. He wants- his cheeks burn hotter than the fucking sun when his logical brain catches up to his illogical, horny brain. He shouldn’t want to keep Chris’ cum inside of him and, yet, here he is. Whining under his breath because Chris is cleaning him up because, again, his mother didn’t not raise a gentleman. 

Chris, the towel, and his hands disappear. 

Sebastian comes to the world when it’s shifting right under his nose, well, technically right under his stomach because that’s how he’s laying but… he can’t be bothered. He’s just moving when he’s not moving a muscle and that’s weird enough in itself, he doesn’t need more questions that don’t have answers. 

The back of his head hits the mattress or pillows or whatever that’s soft and on the bed and underneath his head. His scalp is buzzing with static as is his ass and dick. He feels wrung out. Well used and well loved. Worn down like a favored pair of jeans that have been worn for longer than they should’ve been. He’s not sure if the internal pleased sigh he makes goes out into the world. He’s not bothered if it does or if it doesn’t, the rest of the world seems too far away to care, he’s in his own honey glazed, golden paradise. 

“Seb!?” 

Chris sounds worried, Sebastian has never heard anyone say anything that is so clearly punctuated by an interrobang before. It’s slightly impressive. He’s awful at inflection when he’s just being himself so projecting something that’s not even really a verbal sound has him smiling. What else can Chris do with his mouth that would impress him? 

“Sebastian,” he sounds better, he decided. Sebastian flicks his eyes open, slow and lazy under the weight of his postcoital dopey haze. 

They lock eyes, Chris is chewing on his bottom lip and Sebastian can’t suck back in his words or rewind time but he’d be happy with either power currently because of what comes out of him. He lifts and waves a hand vaguely at Chris, tapping his bottom lip and slurring, “hey, that’sss my job.” 

Chris barks out a laugh, cupping his face and cataloguing him, his eyes sweep over his entire head from his hair to his collarbones. His thumbs stroke down his cheeks, climbing higher until they’re swiping at the delicate skin ringed under his eyes. Sebastian wishes he could purr because that seems much easier than speaking with his swollen and dried, clumsy tongue. He also just thinks that a good purr would convey his happiness a hell of a lot easier. Chris doesn’t pick up on his thoughts this time. He just keeps staring down at him, Sebastian sort of faintly wonders if Chris is straddling him… he can’t really feel his legs at the moment. 

Eventually Chris makes a wounded noise, “God, Seb. I didn’t- I didn’t mean to! I just, I, uhm… did I hurt you?” He doesn’t breathe between the ends of his shattered sentence, “Why didn’t you tell me I was hurting you?!” 

Sebastian catches up to all of his rushed, crunched together words after a little delay. His delay makes Chris’ face fall even further. He can’t have that. Besides, he also needs to get to the bottom of this, he doesn’t scrub any confusion or bewilderment out of his voice, he just lets it all bleed through, hoping he’ll stop panicking. “What? Whh- you didn’t hurt me?” 

Chris presses lightly down on the thin skin below his eyes, really there’s no pressure to be felt in the move, it’s just a bit of warmth and the slide of Chris’ skin over his. Chris sounds on the verge of tears, “you were crying, baby, don’t lie… I’m so fucking sorry. I should’ve-” 

Sebastian surges up on wobbly limbs, cutting off Chris’ running mouth with his own. Chris relaxes into the kiss, not as much as earlier but it’s better than him not reacting at all. He pulls back, slowly, giving back the courtesy Chris has shown him over the night, not pulling away too harshly and making the other believe there’s something wrong. 

“But-” Chris starts again. 

Sebastian just straight up talks over him this time, not letting him think that thought for another fucking second. His ferocious need and want to keep Chris away from those insecurities and fears takes its place in his voice, “No. You didn’t hurt me. You have to trust me, you didn't hurt me.” Chris leans down more so he can kiss the area under each of his eyes in turn. Humming in a clearly disbelieving way. Fucking stubborn, handsome, gentlemen. 

Sebastian gets it out in a rush, all at once, just like ripping a bandaid off. 

“It felt really fucking good, okay?” Sebastian isn’t sure why he’s whispering, but he goes with it, “you didn’t hurt me. It just… I do that sometimes. Just don’t let that get into your head, yeah, you made me cry on your dick.” He’s mostly teasing with the last part and he knows Chris needs that because he’ll still feel guilty if some part of this exchange isn’t a joke. The poor guy feels so damn much, so much more than everyone else does, he’s sure of that.

“Oh.” 

Sebastian looks up. He was expecting more of a fight, more of a little disagreement. Or y’know, something that’s not just acceptance. Although, all of it’s written right over his face. His face is just as red as Sebastian feels his own must be but he’s not just turned pink, he’s also staring directly at Sebastian. He’s never felt more like a specimen under a microscope in his life. 

The amazement coating his words is so pungent and brilliant Sebastian closes his eyes in reflex, it feels like he’s tried staring at the sun, “ah. Okay.” He clears his throat, scratching at the back of his neck, “next time you have to face me though.” 

“What?” Sebastian shakes his head impulsively, “Why? I just said you didn’t-” 

Chris takes his turn cutting in, sounding about a million times more confident than he looks, “I wanna watch you next time.” Sebastian’s head threatens to turn back into a puddle of melted ice cream on a NYC street in the summer. Chris kisses him until naturally Sebastian has no other option but to let his mouth fall open- he expects to feel Chris’ tongue. He doesn’t. All he gets is, “I can’t wait to watch you cry on my cock, pretty baby,” breathed out over his lips like a confessed secret that someone might be wanted dead or alive for. 

Sebastian isn’t just going to melt. He’s going to just fucking get so hot that he skips liquid and turn straight into a gass.

**Author's Note:**

> You can come scream at me on Tumblr if you wish! It's the same username as I have here: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/fandomfluffandfuck


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